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It was the weekend before Memorial Day weekend in 2002. I had joined a beach house on Long Beach Island on the Jersey Shore, and it dawned upon me that I might need some sort of vehicle to transport me to LBI, among other things.

The Purple People Eater, after one last car wash.

After what looked to be a fruitless day of car shopping, I stopped at one last lot and, buried behind cars that were way above and beyond my means (BMW, Audi, Mercedes), I spotted a 1997 Honda Accord.

The good news: The car was exactly what I was looking for. Hondas are reliable stalwarts, and I was looking for something 1997 or newer, because insurance was cheaper for cars of that age at the time. And it was within my price range, or, more accurately, at the very top of my price range. The bad news: It was purple (really dark purple, not Grape Ape purple, but still purple), with gold trim.

However, when shopping for used cars, you have to make sacrifices, so, despite the fact that the gold trim made me want to hurl all over the hood, I drove the 1997 Honda Accord home to Hoboken that day, and it remained with me until Martin Luther King Jr. Day of this year, when I finally traded it in.

All relationships have their highlights and lowlights, and my relationship with the Purple People Eater was no exception. So, without further ado:

The good:

The Accord got me down to LBI for several summers, where, among other things, I relaxed on the beach, drank until I forgot how much I hated the planet, met several people who are now close friends, and got to know the future Mrs. 9.

The Accord was also my primary mode of transportation to Brendan Byrne Arena/Continental Airlines Arena/Izod Center, former home of the New Jersey Nets, during the glorious run with Jason Kidd that included consecutive trips to the NBA Finals.

And the Accord got myself and several teammates to many Bar None and Big Easy football games. We won the championship of our league in 1996, before the Accord was even born, but we had a successful and fun run, with multiple playoff victories, and the Purple People Eater carried many of us to Randall’s Island, or Grand Street and the FDR Drive, and to the bar afterward for wings and liquid refreshments (only two for me, thanks, I have to drive, and NO shots!).

The Accord was part of many a tailgate in the Giants Stadium parking lot prior to glorious shows by Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band, and other shows at other venues, including my favorite band, Rush, at the PNC Bank Arts Center and Jones Beach (most uncomfortable, hottest show I’ve ever sat through).

The bad:

The brakes on the Accord always sucked, no matter how many times I had them adjusted, and how many different mechanics looked at them. Even though I drove the car for 11 years, I never got used to that nervous feeling whenever I had to stop quickly. And I feel bad for people who were passengers in other cars I drove, because years of having to push down as hard as humanly possible on the Accord’s brakes constantly caused me to slam on the brakes of other cars and send everything within those cars spiraling forward.

This was obviously not the fault of the car (or of the driver, I might add), but back in 2008, the Accord met Pothole-Zilla, and the Accord lost, badly, to the tune of two new tires, a new radiator, a new radiator cap, two new hoses, and more than $800 of hard-earned Benjamins.

The following year, my transmission died, and I have been driving on a rebuilt transmission since. It worked fine, for the most part, except that I was strongly advised to let the oil temperature rise for a few minutes before driving the car, and I have the same patience level as most native New Yorkers, which is basically zero.

The gold H. Many have perished in pursuit of it.

Around the same time, I noticed a spot on the roof where the paint had begun to wear away. Over the next few months, this spot began to spread like an STD through a Hoboken bar, to the point where I feared that the roof would rust over and cave in one day. While I love convertibles, this wasn’t quite what I had in mind. So, in the interest of selling or trading in the car somewhere down the line, I spent about $2,000 on a complete repainting and detailing. The only good thing to come out of it was that part of the process included removing the God-forsaken gold trim and replacing it with a traditional chrome trim that made the car much less of an eyesore. I kept the gold H from the grill as a souvenir, and I may mount it on a gold rope chain one day so I can sport my very own hip-hop necklace.

The motor that drives the power windows needed replacing. The windows would go down, but I would have to jiggle the switch hundreds of times until something connected and the windows would roll back up.

The controls for the air conditioning/heating and defroster only worked if you punched the console Arthur Fonzarelli-style, and even then, only about one-half of the time.

And just in case I had any lingering doubts as to whether I was making the right move, when I started the Accord for the final time to drive it to the dealership and turn it in, I noticed that only one headlight was working due to a short.

While it was definitely time to part ways with the Purple People Eater, I had a lot of good memories with the car, and I will definitely miss it. I am now driving a dark grey 2010 Nissan Rogue, and I am sure I will grow to love this car, too. It’s in great condition, and it’s a lot of fun to drive, and I hope the memories I will create with the Rogue match up with those from the Accord, although that’s a pretty tall task.

Farewell, Purple People Eater, and thank you for the companionship and a job well done (for the most part).

It was a very different experience, which I fully expected. The death of Clarence Clemons left a huge void, both musically and in terms of the band’s personality, and, while his nephew, Jake Clemons, and Eddie Manion performed flawlessly and admirably, there’s no replacing a legend.

Springsteen’s music has also branched out in several different directions for his past few albums, and Wrecking Ball is no exception. Very few of the songs on Wrecking Ball really sound like Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band. This is not to say that it’s not quality music: It’s just different. It’s a very angry album, with a lot of edgy folk-type songs, and a lot of Irish influence.

One of the biggest differences I noticed was Springsteen’s demeanor. I am obviously a die-hard fan, and have seen him live several times, and I am used to seeing him sing with a pained expression that looks like he’s holding back a giant dump. But he was exceptionally animated during this show, singing the angry parts of songs with legitimate anger, and smiling during the more festive material, more so than I have ever seen him do.

The set list was heavy on newer material, which was no surprise. The songs from Wrecking Ball sounded like the band had been performing them for years, and the newer sounds were quite refreshing. Naturally, some classics were sprinkled in throughout the show, as well. And continuing the Springsteen tradition of pulling at least one song out of the vaults that no one in the audience ever expected to hear, the surprise selection on this night was “So Young and In Love.”

Clarence Clemons, the late, great Big Man, was recognized twice during the show. When the band was introduced early on, Springsteen saved him for last, as usual, and said to the crowd, “Am I missing anybody?” After allowing a few seconds for cheers and tribute, he added, “If we’re here, they’re here,” repeating it a couple of times for emphasis. And during the last song of the night, “Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out,” the entire band paused after the verse, “The change was made uptown and the Big Man joined the band,” for a very long, very emotional standing ovation. Well done.

It’s a new era for the band, and for Springsteen. The classic songs will never be abandoned, but that being said, there will never be another set list like the one from Giants Stadium (R.I.P.) July 31, 2008, which was, by far, my favorite Bruce show of all-time.

However, if you leave a show with Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band feeling disappointed or cheated, you just weren’t paying attention. It may be a new chapter in their history, but they are STILL the heart-stopping, pants-dropping, hard-rocking, booty-shaking, earth-quaking, nerve-breaking, Viagra-taking history-making, legendary … E-STREET BAND!

Even Backstreets, the fan site for Bruce junkies, pretty much agrees with me: “Closing night seemed to break very little new ground, however. The set list was a near carbon copy of the previous Saturday’s show, including the reprise performance of the Born in the USA album. The crowd certainly brought the noise, as exhorted by Bruce to do so, and the band’s performance was excellent, but as a whole, the show seemed to fall short of the heights that closing night in Jersey has brought in the past.”

The July 31, 2008, show was absolutely unreal, and there will never be another one like it. But last night’s didn’t even come close. If you would have told me that Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band would play their final show at Giants Stadium and not play Rosalita, Jungleland, Thunder Road, Candy’s Room, Backstreets, Tenth Avenue Freeze-Out, Prove It All Night or Two Hearts, I’d have probably laughed at you. I didn’t expect all of those songs, but I certainly didn’t expect none of those songs.

And while music is certainly a matter of opinion and there is no right and wrong, I’ve never been a fan of some of the songs that were played last night. Seven Nights to Rock does nothing for me. American Land is a great song, but it’s run its course. Kitty’s Back is a fantastic classic, but I would have gladly sacrificed it for one of the songs mentioned above, or two, since Kitty’s Back is well over 10 minutes long. And while I’m not a huge Rolling Stones fan and the theme of the song was appropriate for the evening, I could have done without The Last Time.

And in the, “If It’s on the Internet, It MUST Be True” department, none of the rumors being bandied about came to fruition. I read in various places that the band applied for a special permit to extend the show to 1 a.m., yet I was actually sitting on my couch watching the end of the Red Sox-Angels game minutes after midnight. And I read about special guests including Jon Bon Jovi, Mick Jagger, Elton John and Bono, yet the closest thing to a special guest was Max Weinberg’s son, Jay, playing the drums during Born to Run (and doing a stellar job, much as he did when he played the entire show at the IZOD Center a few months ago).

On a more positive note, seeing Jersey Girl live is always special, although I think 70,000 people were shocked to find out it was the last song. I love Wrecking Ball, the tribute to Giants Stadium, and sincerely hope they release a recording of it so I don’t have to rely on a bootleg. Spirit in the Night was awesome, and Tougher than the Rest was a nice surprise.

Don’t get me wrong: I am NOT bashing the band. As I said earlier, the effort and the performance last night were still fantastic, and I still believe they are, by far, the best live band around. And while I will probably not to go either of the November shows at Madison Square Garden for various reasons, many of them involving my dwindling bank account, I will definitely see them the next time they come around, although they are allegedly taking a two-year hiatus from touring. I just expected to close Giants Stadium out with an all-time epic classic show, and not an “average” Springsteen show, even though an average Springsteen show is still better than most other artists’ best shows.

Bring on your wrecking ball.

Last night’s set list:
Wrecking Ball (with Curt Ramm)
Badlands
Spirit in the Night
Outlaw Pete
Hungry Heart
Working on a Dream
Born in the USA
Cover Me
Darlington County
Working on the Highway
Downbound Train
I’m on Fire
No Surrender
Bobby Jean
I’m Goin’ Down
Glory Days
Dancing in the Dark
My Hometown
Tougher Than the Rest
The Promised Land
Last to Die (with Curt Ramm)
Long Walk Home
The Rising
Born to Run (with Jay Weinberg)
* * *
Raise Your Hand
The Last Time
Waitin’ on a Sunny Day
Seven Nights to Rock
Kitty’s Back (with Curt Ramm)
American Land
Jersey Girl

I blame my Hebrew-school tutor for all of this. As a reward for successfully making it through the Torah portion of my Bar Mitzvah without puking on the sacred parchment or tripping up over the Hebrew words and accidentally telling the congregation to go sodomize sheep, he bought me the album — yes, the actual 12-inch, vinyl record album — of Born to Run by Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band.

Born to Run

At the time — the time being 1981 — I knew a few Springsteen songs, but I wouldn’t have called myself a fan. I knew “Hungry Heart” because it was all over the radio, and I knew the title track from Born to Run, but that was about it.

Then, I brought the record home and put on the first track, “Thunder Road.” I was an instant Springsteen junkie about three minutes into the song, and it’s only gotten worse.

Thank you, Mark Elber, wherever you are.

I went to see the heart-stopping, pants-dropping, hard-rocking, booty-shaking, earth-quaking, nerve-breaking, Viagra-taking history-making, legendary … E-STREET BAND at the debacle of a facility currently known as the IZOD Center last night. Between how bland the home of my beloved New Jersey Nets is and how pathetic the half-finished Xanadu God-knows-what project looks, they really should drop a nuclear bomb on that part of the Meadowlands (the two football stadiums and the track can be spared).

Anyway, for whatever reason, I wasn’t as fired up as I usually am to see The Boss. I was excited, but I didn’t have that all-day adrenalin surge. I guess part of it is that I know I always like the end-of-summer Giants Stadium shows better — speaking of which, the final concerts at Giants Stadium will be performed by none other than Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band, with three shows wrapping up Oct. 3. And part of it is that things have been crazy in my life, but in a good way — working part-time, tons of visits to the new Yankee Stadium, lots of softball games and, most important, my girlfriend moving in soon.

Photo by A.M. Saddler, from Backstreets.com

But as usual, the boys didn’t disappoint. This was yet another fantastic show, with some songs that I hadn’t seen played live since the Born in the USA tour in 1985. Pleasant surprises included “Seeds,” “Johnny 99” and “The Ghost of Tom Joad” — it seemed like a mini-set tribute to the unemployed — and always welcome classics included “Thunder Road,” “Jungleland” and “Rosalita.” And I saw the band play one of my personal favorites, “I’m Goin’ Down,” for the first time since the previously mentioned Born in the USA tour.

I am exhausted and drained, but I will be sure to get my energy back by June 1, when tickets for the next assault on New Jersey go on sale. What a fucking great show.

The set list (thank you, Badlands.com):
Badlands
Adam Raised a Cain
Outlaw Pete
Radio Nowhere
She’s the One
Working on a Dream
Seeds
Johnny 99
The Ghost of Tom Joad
Raise Your Hand
Growin’ Up
I’m Goin’ Down
Prove It All Night
Waitin’ on a Sunny Day
The Promised Land
The Wrestler
Kingdom of Days
Lonesome Day
The Rising
Born to Run
* * *
Hard Times
Thunder Road
Jungleland
Land of Hope and Dreams
American Land
Rosalita

Ticketmaster has been in the news quite a bit lately, and for all of the wrong reasons. Yet, despite the rhetoric of performers, venues and lawmakers, nothing ever seems to be done about all of its wrongdoings.

Ticketmaster SUCKS

When tickets for the upcoming tour by Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band went on sale in February, potential ticket buyers, myself included, were left out in the cold. It seems that Ticketmaster conveniently decided to perform “routine maintenance” seconds after tickets to see one of the most popular artists in the world were made available for sale. But fear not, fans of The Boss: Tickets were available through TicketsNow, an online ticket broker selling seats at 10 times their face value. In a shocking coincidence, would anyone care to take a guess which company owns TicketsNow? If you guessed Ticketmaster, you are correct, but you win nothing.

Then, as if the entire process of trying to get Yankees tickets for the 2009 season hasn’t been enough of a fiasco, I read about this gem on a blog called New Stadium Insider. Apparently, a potential customer shelled out $900 for a ticket for Opening Day (don’t even get me started on the Yankees’ ticket prices), only to go through the Ticketmaster process and find that he was given a completely different ticket, nowhere near as good as his original seat, while the original ticket was relisted at $2,650. Someone spending $9 on a ticket should be entitled to the location they were promised, much less someone spending $900.

Then this morning, a good friend whom I had e-mailed information about a presale for U2 tickets informed me that Ticketmaster was pulling the exact same scam for U2 that it did for Springsteen — saying the site was down for maintenance and directing people to TicketsNow. Unreal.

Those three examples aside, anyone who has ever tried to get tickets has experienced the following scenario. Say, hypothetically, tickets to see Rush become available at 10 a.m. Why is it that upon getting through to the Ticketmaster system at 15 seconds after 10 a.m., the only seats available in a 20,000-seat arena are in the upper sections? Are we expected to believe that 12,000 or so of the 20,000 seats were sold in 15 seconds? Yet, should you surf to any online ticket broker, the prime seats that were never made available to you are mysteriously right there for the taking — at several times face value, naturally.

I really wish more performers, teams and operators of venues would follow the lead of Pearl Jam 15 years ago and fight Ticketmaster in every way possible. It’s sad that Pearl Jam tried to take a stand in 1994 and, 15 years later, the situation has gotten worse, not better.

Ticketmaster should be brought to its knees. Will anyone have the guts to do it? I doubt it.

As I type this, I’m listening to a bootleg of the Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band July 27 show from Giants Stadium. The quality is fairly strong, for a bootleg, and it’s always fun for me to relive a show I attended and enjoyed. But why can’t I listen to a CD-quality version of this show?

I’ve never understood why more bands don’t make their concerts available for downloading. I realize the overhead of producing CDs would be way too high, although Pearl Jam released an entire leg of its tour on CD a few years back. But how much could it possibly cost to put the files on a server and make them available for download?

Fans will buy them. I have no doubts about this at all. And even if piracy is a concern, as I said before, the overhead costs are minimal, so how much would really be lost?

Of all bands, Metallica, the band at the forefront of the war against Napster, is offering people who buy tickets to its upcoming tour live downloads of the shows they attend. And Barenaked Ladies has been offering live downloads for years.

I really wish more bands would get with the program on this. And if anyone even remotely associated with Bruce Springsteen and E Street Band happens to read this blog, please start with the July 31 Giants Stadium show.

First, I saw three incredible shows by Bruce Springsteen and the E Street Band, with the last one, Thursday night, incredible beyond words.

Then, while out at happy hour at the Shell on Long Beach Island yesterday, a brief rain shower chased Monte and the All-Stars off the stage before they could butcher Rosalita. What they do to that song should be illegal. Two minutes of raindrops saved me from eight minutes of suffering.

Finally, I was way too tired to go out last night, and I missed out on a pretty good band, Laura Lea & Tripp Fabulous. But I’m happy I missed out on their cover of Mr. Jones by Counting Crows. As much as I like Laura Lea’s voice, that song is awful, brutal, hideous, whiny, irritating and foul beyond saving by anyone.